


A World Where Roses Bloom

by leafiest_groves



Series: ❃ 𝓛𝓮𝓱𝓮𝓷𝓰𝓪 𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 ❃ [5]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Indian Potters, Pureblood Culture, Raksha Bandhan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:40:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23120392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leafiest_groves/pseuds/leafiest_groves
Summary: Neville’s never gotten a Rakhi from Haru, and when she actually invites him to celebrate the festival, she does the opposite of proclaiming him as a brother.
Relationships: Female Harry Potter/Neville Longbottom, Female James Potter/Sirius Black
Series: ❃ 𝓛𝓮𝓱𝓮𝓷𝓰𝓪 𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 ❃ [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661890
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55





	A World Where Roses Bloom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ellory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellory/gifts).



Neville leaned over the balcony, looking down to see the commotion outside. There was altogether too much excited yelling outside. Today was Raksha Bandhan. Harini had invited him over, smiling and sunshiny. Uncle Sirius and Aunt Janaki were having a real time of it trying to round to boys up, so that Haru could give them their Rakhis. To start off the day spectacularly, Harry had been dangling upside down on his broom, before righting himself and remarking rather cryptically that his little sister had a surprise that he wasn’t sure he liked. Before Neville had even had the time to decipher what that statement was supposed to mean, he had zoomed off, calling to see where Haru was. He hadn’t even seen her yet. Uncle Sirius had been dragging Aries and Leo downstairs, while Aunt Janaki had given him a tray of Kaju Katlis and sent him off to the balcony.

In all the chaos of the occasion, Deepika had managed to get away from her grandmother, who was trying in vain to get her dressed for the occasion. She’d run off to go find-“Akka!” , she yelled, her voice carrying all the way to Neville. He could hear a faint clinking of bells- _Haru’s anklets-_ and some hushed giggling, before he heard Haru’s voice. “Kannamma, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Ammamma? You aren’t ready yet.” Neville heard the pout in Deepu’s tone. “I wanted you to dress me! You always pick the nicest dresses Akka. You look so pretty today too! You should wear green and red more, it suits you!” He stopped really listening after that. Red…and _green?_ Had he heard her correctly? Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realise that they’d left, until of course, he hear Haru’s unmistakable shrieking. “Anna! You idiot! Get down from there or I won’t let Amma give you _any_ of the sweets I made.” A peal of laughter-Harry’s, he realised- rang out, and then Deepu let out an indignant squeal. She _did_ hate getting picked up without warning. 

A faint knock sounded on the door behind him, and he heard Padma Patil’s voice from the other side. “Neville? You there? Atthamma said I’d be able to find you here.” Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, he went to open the door. Padma cheerfully handed him a deep red envelope, a jalebi, and tied a Rakhi around his wrist. “Happy Raksha Bandhan!” she smiled, before tilting her head in the direction of the noise. “Harry and Parvati are waiting for me,” she said, “I really should get going. But I did want to give you the Rakhi Akka and I made for you before the party started.” Waving, she ran off to the gardens and the quidditch pitch, where everyone else was gathered. Neville ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Aunt Janaki had asked to stay here, Deepu had mentioned something about her sister in green, and the Patil twins had given him their Rakhi and left for the partying. Where was Haru? It was unlike her to forget. Wasn’t she going to give him some kind of surprise? What was going on?

His eyes trailed over the latticework Aunt Janaki had done over the rooftop gardens. It was all carved flowers and gemstones. His mind wandered to the flowers Haru had worn over the years. Jasmine, the smell of it so strong that it was burned into his memory. It had hung tantalisingly from her hair, looped up in swooping vines and braids. Hibiscus, as wide as his outstretched palm, tucked behind her ears carelessly, no matter the colour. Pink, yellow, red, orange, like a burst of sunset haze, or deep blue and white and violet, like a twilight sky. Bougainvillea, stalks of it wrapped around her skirts as foliage whenever she decided to attend the ministry gala in western robes. Honeysuckle and Wisteria, the same flowers that he’d seen growing out of the window box in Haru’s weaving room for years now. Roses, so vivid that-“Neville?” The minute he turned to face her, his eyes widened.

_She was dressed in his colours. She was wearing House Longbottom’s Evergreen. She was in Longbottom green, and she hadn’t given him a Rakhi._

The flush barely showed on her face, but her ears pinked at his expression. Neville on the other hand, was far too preoccupied with staring at her. The brilliance of the green was all the more visible in silk, and he could practically feel her magic radiating off of it. 

_She’d woven it herself._

The skirt flared out around her, starting at her hips and flowing outward elegantly, trailing slightly on the ground. The outward edge shimmered in gold, and he realised that like Aunt Janaki, the gold on her dress was real gold. Gold that was hammered into thread. Her blouse matched the skirt, with Potter crimson sleeves that stopped at her elbows, and while the neckline wasn’t deep, it was wide, and her collarbones were magnificent, even in shadowy, spotty light under the Morning Glory trellises. The crimson saree piece draped around her still exposed most of her stomach on one side, and the bangles, the necklace, her armbands, the waist band, her earrings, they were all _green and gold._

But the one detail that kept him staring was her hair. Dark, thick, and wavy, it tumbled down her back before it stopped just above her knees. The pin she’d been given on her coming of age ceremony years ago was tucking the hair back on one side, while gold peacock feathers and roses were braided through the rest. While the sheer amazement of seeing it open and left down was encompassing most of his thinking mind right now, a small voice in the back of his mind was yelling distantly, telling him that something was off. Hadn’t Deepu been bragging to his mother that her sister’s hair was long enough to touch the ground? Why had it suddenly gotten shorter?

He barely processed the sound of her anklets as she walked closer, his mouth was still dry. “Ha-Haru?” His voice was a faint whisper, he barely heard it himself over the sound of his own heartbeat. His eyes raked over her hands, detailed painstakingly and beautifully with scenes of gardens and palaces and kings and princes and queens. Spread out over the backs of her hands were peacocks flirting their tails at the viewer, and trailing down her arms were dancing princesses and lotuses and swordfights. The sheen of her magic, a soft shade somewhere between cream and off white was shimmering over her fingertips, and before he really understood what was happening, she was right in front of him, looking fearlessly up at him. Wordlessly, she summoned the hair she’d cut into her upturned palms, and Neville couldn’t do anything but stare. Stare at the apparition who appeared before him, offerring everything he’d ever wanted for him to have with Harini. 

“I-I haven’t wanted to give you a Rahki in four _years_ ; Nev,” she said softly, her hands shaky. “I haven’t-I haven’t invited you over for Raksha Bandhan for all this time, because I can’t convince myself to just let you be a-a _brother_ to me. I want something different, something _more_ than just that. I want you and I to have the kind of love I’m a witness to everyday. The way dad calls Amma Jaanu, the way they laugh and have that-that companionship, they have each other and they’re happy, and-“ she stopped, her arms still quivering from the weight of the confession. She seemed to steel herself before offerring him the braided hair that had been woven into a soft, clothlike piece, decorated with gold, flower-shaped pins. “I don’t _ever_ want to give you a Rakhi. I want to give you my, hand, my love, my soul, and if you’ll have me-“

He kissed her. A hand cupping her cheek, another to steady her.

When they pulled away from each other, Haru’s relieved chesire grin looked back at him. “I reckon this is the sort of surprise Harry didn’t want me to recieve?”, he chuckled softly, tilting her chin up to look him in the eye. Haru giggled at shook her head, the motion making her hair swish behind her. “He _said_ that he wasn’t sure if he liked it. I think the plan wasn’t stupid enough for it to be any fun for him. Not enough stupid risks. Still, he’s your godbrother, and he thinks you’re the best choice I could’ve made out of all of them.” She put one of her hands on top of the hand he held her cheek with, breathing in deep. 

“Would you like to hear a secret? I asked Amma to have this garden. I asked her if it could be mine. I wanted something that would keep me thinking of you, no matter how far away you felt.” 

“Would _you_ like to hear a secret? I’ve wanted you to be mine for years. I asked myself if you’d be mine. I wanted something splendid that would make you realise I was in love with you.”

A pretty picture to add to a garden full of them, Heir and Heiress walked out arm in arm, Rakhis and brothers alike all but forgotten in the little tableau of human love and happiness they made. At any rate, neither was much missed, since the younger a sister is, the easier to get a rise out of her, and everyone was thoroughly entertained by good company, good food and festing, by antics and mischief and excitement, and almost nobody noticed a lovely young thing in green running up and down the stairs. 

**Author's Note:**

> I’ll explain some of things really quick.
> 
> Janaki: It’s James. A female James who bonded with Sirius. Janaki is an alternate version of Goddess Sita’s name.
> 
> Kaju Katlis: Amazing diamond shaped cashew sweets plated with silver foil. Delicious, and a feast for the eyes.
> 
> Kannamma: A less cheesy version of Bujjikanna. Totally something I call my sister, and she calls me that too, since the term isn’t always exclusive to younger sisters.
> 
> Ammamma: Your Ammamma is your maternal grandmother. Here, Dorea is Deepika, Harini, Leo, Aries, and Harry's Ammamma, since she’s Janaki’s (Female James’s) mom.
> 
> Atthamma: Atthamma means aunty/aunt. There’s more specific terms for your biological aunts, but Atthamma is a bit of a blanket term, for your friend’s mom, for your parent’s female friends, or really anyone who you think is too much older than you to be called Akka. Here, Padma is referring to Janaki, who she calls Attha/Atthamma because she’s a family friend and her friends’ mom.
> 
> If anyone’s curious about the language, feel free to ask! Google Translate is a very unreliable narrator, and I’m happy to help!
> 
> Ellory requested this one, and it was first among many vignettes involving our favourite dorks.


End file.
